


Honey Gold and Glowing

by Interrobang



Series: Original Work [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Jacobson Pack, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Werewolves, Witches, jewish werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: “Manners, Becca,” her mother chided when she saw her loading her plate up before they’d all sat down. “Is the job paying well?”Rebecca grinned. “Hell yeah. Basic cost plus tip on this one, and the guy said he’d subscribe if she’s up to snuff— which you know she is. Mena said we might be able to actually go somewhere for our harvest moon vacation this year if I can get the time off for it.”“Shouldn’t be a problem,” her dad said as he poured wine in the kiddush cup. “I don’t think we had anything planned except grilling out, maybe. Thought we might invite some of the cousins over.”“Ha! Cal’ll love that,” Rebecca said with a laugh. “Mena might not dig it so much, though.”“And you’re getting married when?” her mother asked innocently.“I don’t—  know?” Rebecca choked, hacking and pounding her chest with a fist that suddenly had fur on it. She took a deep breath, willing the fuzz away. “Why would we get married?”
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Series: Original Work [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869703
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Honey Gold and Glowing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drizzerey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drizzerey/gifts).



> A friend commissioned me to write my OCs, and I just couldn't say no to the chance. Timeline-wise, this takes place before Last Of The Summer Nights (https://archiveofourown.org/works/13941045/chapters/51603277). I definitely want to write a sequel to this some day of their first date/first time in bed together. <3

Rebecca and Mena lived in a small house on the edge of the Jacobsons’ property. It was far enough away from Rebecca’s parents that it warranted its own address on the map, but close enough that their backyard, which edged the local wood, eventually met up with the elder Jacobsons’ lush plot.

Rebecca and Mena’s home, however, was much more secluded than Rebecca’s parents’; Mena had magicked it that way, summoning a huge, dense thicket of plants around the edge of their little slice of the woods. It kept wandering wildlife out, and their three chihuahuas (Peanut, Frank, and Popcorn) in. The yard made an inviting place for Rebecca to wolf out on lazy summer days, often running around with the chis until the tiny dogs tuckered out.

They had a cramped garage— converted into a workroom for Mena’s business— and a gravel driveway that Rebecca parked her bike in when she was home. Mena was more of a fly-by-night type of traveller, quite literally, and had no need for any other mode of transport. 

On this particular Friday night, Rebecca was in a hurry to leave, though she stopped to scent Mena on the way through the garage, rubbing one cheek over Mena’s tied-back locs. She smiled into it, noting that Mena was wearing one of the kerchiefs Rebecca had bought her for her birthday last year.

“See you tonight?” the werewolf asked as she shrugged on her jacket.

Mena hummed, adjusting her magnifying goggles as she counted individual poppy seeds with all the focus of an accountant. “It’s Shabbat though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but _after_.” Rebecca dropped her voice slightly, raising one dark eyebrow in invitation. “Dad’ll probably give me leftovers to take to you. C’mon, we can sit out in the hammock. Wine, puppy snuggles. Doesn’t that sound like a good Friday?” Rebecca cajoled her. 

She often had to do so. Mena was more of a homebody— if you didn’t count the fact that she was up to her knees in mud in their garden with various projects half the time. If left to her own devices, she’d spend hours at her alchemical station or carefully curating their edible garden around the property. She didn’t venture outside of the property much except to drum up business or attend coven meetings.

But she could be convinced, on occasion, to pull her head out of her work.

“Yeah, alright,” Mena finally relented, setting down her tweezers and lifting her goggles up to her forehead, revealing warm brown eyes in the lamplight. “Bring home a bone for the chis and maybe we’ll have some peace and quiet for once. They’ve been yippy all day.”

Rebecca beamed, teeth sharp and shining as she pulled her bike jacket on and headed out the door. “I’ll see what Dad has waiting for me. I’ll be back before midnight! Love you!”

“Love you too!” came the call as Rebecca shut the door behind her.

She was just barely on time to dinner, shutting the front door behind her just in time to hear her dad pop the cork out of a bottle of wine. She ducked into the dining room, grinning at the table. She’d made it before candle lighting, at least, which was the cutoff before her mom nagged about punctuality.

“Where’s Cal?” Rebecca asked as she skirted the table to her seat. She nodded to Bina and Ruth, who were discussing something in earnest, and ruffled Leah’s short curls.

“Off with Sol on a work trip,” their mother said as she looked her oldest daughter over. “They’ll be back next week. You didn’t bring Mena?”

Rebecca shrugged, dropping into her seat and scooping the main course— something roasted with quinoa and chickpeas, who cared, it was hearty and there was a lot of it— onto her plate. “She had work, too. Apparently one of her projects needs specifically timed agitation— she’s got to stir it every five minutes until it starts shimmering, I guess?”

“Manners, Becca,” her mother chided when she saw her loading her plate up before they’d all sat down. “Is the job paying well?”

Rebecca grinned. “Hell yeah. Basic cost _plus_ tip on this one, and the guy said he’d subscribe if she’s up to snuff— which you _know_ she is. Mena said we might be able to actually go somewhere for our harvest moon vacation this year if I can get the time off for it.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” her dad said as he poured wine in the kiddush cup. “I don’t think we had anything planned except grilling out, maybe. Thought we might invite some of the cousins over.”

“Ha! Cal’ll love that,” Rebecca said with a laugh. “Mena might not dig it so much, though.”

“And you’re getting married when?” her mother asked innocently.

“I don’t— know?” Rebecca choked, hacking and pounding her chest with a fist that suddenly had fur on it. She took a deep breath, willing the fuzz away. “Why would we get married?”

“You have three dogs and signed a mortgage together. How are you not married _already?”_ Leah, her youngest sister, interjected. 

Rebecca stared at her like she’d grown a second tail. “Because we don’t feel that way about each other? I mean, she definitely doesn’t, at least.”

“Aha!” Bina cut in, pointing her spoon at Rebecca accusingly. “But you do.”

“I’m— I like people! I fall a little in love with every friend I make!” Rebecca said defensively. “Doesn’t mean I need to act on it. It’s almost sundown, why are you all interrogating me? We should do candles.”

She got a brief respite while they went through all the prayers and lit the candles and drank their wine and tore the challah, but she wasn’t lucky enough for that to be the end of it.

“But you would if you had a chance.”

“Would…?” Rebecca dared.

“You’d marry Mena. I really don’t see why you haven’t already,” her mom said. 

“I don’t have a chance, is what I’m saying. She doesn’t have time for anyone to butt into her life. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” smarty-pants Bio major Rachel said, neatly cutting into her food. “But she obviously makes time for _you_. It’s why you live together. Why not just ask her out? It couldn’t hurt. If she doesn’t want to, she’ll just laugh it off and you’ll be fine.”

“She’s already pack,” their father added as he brought in another dish from the kitchen. “And you’ll need a second-in-command when you branch out.”

“She—” Rebecca fumbled for the words, face flushing hotly. “She’d already be my second in command. If she wants to be.”

“Then it’s settled!” Mama said, lifting her wine to toast. “To Mena! Becca, bring her next moon so we can celebrate.”

Rebecca sunk in her chair. 

When she pulled into the driveway and wandered through their house Mena was relaxing in the hammock on the back porch, the chis settled under her.

“Work done?” Rebecca asked through the screen door as she hung up her coat and kicked off her shoes. 

“Yup,” Mena said, smiling wide as she stretched. “Come sit with me. Citronella’s already lit. How was dinner?”

“Mom said to bring you by next moon,” she said, leaving out the _why._

“Did you get a bone for the boneheads?”

“Shit, no, sorry,” Rebecca said, running her fingers through her short black hair. “Totally forgot.”

“‘S fine,” Mena said, making room for Rebecca next to her.

Rebecca climbed in the hammock with Mena, tangling their legs: smooth and dark as loam tangled with muscular and hairy as they got comfortable. 

“Mean, how long have we known each other?”

“Let’s see,” Mena said, putting on her thinking face. “I was twelve then, and you’d just had your bat mitzvah, so...fifteen years now? More than half our damn lives, Becca, holy shit.”

“And you’re my right-hand lady, right?”

“Duh,” Mena said, eyes still closed. Her eyelashes were so _long,_ Rebecca thought suddenly. And her lips looked so soft, full and quirked faintly upwards. Had her skin always looked so smooth? 

She mentally shook herself. She was attracted to a lot of people. There were a lot of attractive people out there. This didn’t have to mean anything. 

“Where are you going with this?” Mena asked after a short silence.

“Well. I mean.” Rebecca took a deep breath, huffing it all out in a deep sigh. “You’d be my second-in-command if I ever start my own pack, right?”

“If you want me to,” Mena said cautiously, blinking open one dark eye to stare at her. “If neither of us gets married.”

“Pack structure’s not— _always_ a marriage thing,” Rebecca said carefully, trying to figure out how to phrase what she wanted to say. “If you— if you found someone, they’d have to be vetted, but I’d do that anyway, I mean— and—”

“And I’d do the same for you, obviously.” Mena said, seeing where she was going with it already. “Right. So. Business partners?”

“Everything partners, basically. But we do that already.”

"Hm." She made the noise that meant she would give it some thought, but not while relaxing in the hammock. Instead she leaned her head on Rebecca’s shoulder and settled in to listen to the evening around them.

The next day, Rebecca started planning. She’d have to make this obvious, or Mena would brush it off as just another gal pal thing. Even if they were basically already dating by most people’s standards, they hadn’t _said_ anything about it. A clear courting move was traditional and certainly wouldn't hurt. At the very least, it would make her intentions clear. 

The first hunt was simple: not for meat, because Mena was a vegetarian, but for edible wild goods: morrells and hen-of-the-woods and spruce tips and willow bark. She bundled them up carefully in her worn out backpack. The packages, wrapped in pieces of cloth or recycled fruit clamshells, settled carefully in her bag. She'd used the same pack for years. It was thin in places, not safe for heavy loads anymore, but it could handle a few bundles of vegetables.

“These are lovely,” Mena said when Rebecca unpacked her bag that evening. “Ooh, it _did_ just rain, didn’t it? Pilaf tonight alright?” She inspected the mushrooms, sniffing their gills. “I’m gonna dry out the morrells for later, if you don’t mind, but the hen-of-the-woods is such a treat fresh... Thanks, hon.” She pecked Rebecca on the cheek, humming happily as she sashayed into their cluttered cottage kitchen with the packages cradled in her arms. 

That night, eating over their small dining room table, Rebecca dared to bridge the gap.

“Everything I picked up look okay?” she asked as she scooped up another heaping helping of the pilaf Mena’d made that evening. The rice and cashews were matched singularly well by the savory mushroom— so at least Rebecca could forgive the orange huge of the fungus itself.

“Perfect,” Mena gushed, her eyes bright. “Your bag hold up okay? That hole in the side looked bigger than the last time I mended it.”

“Not too bad,” Rebecca said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Another patch and it’ll survive.”

“If you say so,” Mena said. “Hey, did your dad ever get to those rocks I sent him? They still need some tumbling, but I think they’ll take the charm well…”

— 

The next hunt was harder: it had to be _perfect._ Mena hadn’t brought up the partnership at all after the wild edibles, probably because Rebecca brought home food for both of them all the time. This had to be personal.

Rebecca sifted through dozens of shops to find what she needed. Thrift stores, vintage shops, even the local dump was useful: she needed jars. Jars with _value_. Things that had once been loved, or held something precious, were the only kind of container Mena could use for her work. The emotional components were the most difficult to procure. 

Rebecca was able to hunt down almost a dozen after a week’s diligent work: mismatched twee little salt-and-pepper shakers, emptied candle jars that still had a lingering scent to them, and even an old ceramic crock that smelled very strongly of chili and cabbage and had clearly been buried at some point.

“Where the hell did you find all of these?” Mena asked as she unearthed the containers from their tissue paper wrappings. She shoved the piece of leather she was tooling aside to make room to stare at the assortment in more detail. “ _Why_ did you find all these?”

“Because you need them,” Rebecca said with a shrug. She ran a clawed hand through her short hair, fighting a flush. “I wanted to be useful.”

“Aw, this one looks like some kid’s fifth grade ceramics project,” Mena cooed as she unearthed a lopsided...dog?... with a squashy opening where its mouth should have been. “I almost don’t want to use them.”

“Save them for the right projects,” Rebecca suggested. “You like them though?”

“This is so _sweet_ ,” Mena cooed. She looked at Rebecca, a queer look on her face. “You are such a sap, girl.”

“Aw, shove it, witchy bitch,” Rebecca said without any heat. “You like me when I’m sappy.”

“You’re gonna make a great pack leader. Bet you’ll have a dozen wolves under you in no time. Probably half the local coven, too.”

Rebecca beamed, and tried not to let her heart flutter its way out of her chest.

— 

With all the time she’d spent on the jars, Rebecca only had a few days left until the moon to get the final piece of her courting right. This was the most difficult part, because it required her to get into Mena’s tools without her noticing. She had to wake up early— just after sunrise, when Mena got back from her deliveries and fell into bed— to gather her materials without alerting her. 

The roses were easy; they had hundreds of them in their backyard, climbing trellises like the most fragrant of walls. She plucked the fresh blooms and soaked them in warm water, drawing out their essence. That was set aside. The lavender was next, and the lilac, and tiny jasmine blooms that wouldn’t even have grown in their temperate little yard without Mena’s influence. All went into their own pots to soak until the kitchen smelled like a greenhouse. 

It was almost noon by the time Mena stopped her heavy snoring, and by then Rebecca was just about done with her work. She stoppered the bottles— she’d kept _some_ of the jars behind, reserving a few old perfume bottles for her own needs— and carefully hid them among Mena’s half of their bathroom.

She was still sipping her coffee (enough milk that Mena made fun of her, no sugar) quietly on the porch when she heard Mena shuffle into the bathroom and their shower squeal on. She sipped slowly, savoring the quiet, occasionally ripping off pieces of turkey bacon to throw to Frank, the one dog that valued breakfast over sleeping in Mena’s bed.

The chihuahua skittered away when Mena stalked out of the bathroom dripping wet, hair up in an elaborate towel tie as she clutched her robe around her. 

“Did you buy me _more_ bath stuff?” she asked, not quite looking upset. “I told you I need to break that addiction. The whole point of the edible fence was to be more self-sufficient.”

“So I’m more self-sufficient,” Rebecca said with what was _supposed_ to be a casual shrug, but which was probably ruined by her smug grin. 

“What?” Mena whirled back, then came back with the bottles of rose water toner and jasmine sugar scrub. “No. You didn’t.” 

“You’re a heavy sleeper. I had time.” Rebecca laughed. “I didn’t touch the madagascar vanilla, and I _did_ leave some rosehips on the bush, but I thought— “

“I am gonna make something _spectacular_ for you,” Mena said, brandishing the bottle of rosewater at her. “Mark my words. You watch— I’ll make this up to you.”

“No need,” Rebecca insisted. Being _owed_ was the last thing she wanted. “You pay most of our mortgage. You deserve nice things. Enjoy it!” That _had_ to be a clear message.

“Shit, if this is what it means to be your second-in-command, I fear for whoever you actually marry. You better find someone worth the effort!”

Rebecca set her cup down as Mena darted back into the bathroom. 

Not clear enough, apparently.

— 

The afternoon of the full moon, Rebecca paced around the house for what felt like hours, going over her final plans. She could probably pull this off as long as she could keep her family out of their business for five minutes. 

“You ready?” Mena asked at last as the sun started to dip below the treeline. She adjusted her bulging satchel on her hip, fingering the stone rod that helped her cast in the daylight. The woods behind their house were darkening now, long shadows cast over the fir needle-covered ground, but it wasn’t quite dark enough for her powers to be full. “It’s a quick walk by shadow.”

“Yup,” Rebecca said, trying to calm herself. Luckily, so close to moonrise on the full moon, it wasn’t unusual for Rebecca to be a bit fuzzier than normal. She scratched at the scruff around her jaw, shaking herself briskly before swinging her empty backpack on her shoulders. At Mena’s curious look, Rebecca shrugged. “For leftovers,” she explained simply.

Rebecca took Mena’s outstretched hand as always, taking one step together as Mena twisted the dark around her fingers and gave them a quick passage through the woods. They stepped out of the wood on the other side of it, the Jacobsons’ large house in view, already lit up with voices calling throughout.

“They’re here!” came the call before Rebecca’s youngest sisters burst out of the back door into the patio. They skirted around the pond in a scrabble of half-wolfed-out bodies.

“Aw, they’re holding hands!” Leah cooed. 

“So sweet,” Bina agreed.

“Fastest way to travel,” Mena said with a wink. She dropped Rebecca’s hand and hoisted her pack on her hip. “Y’all ready?” 

"Did you bring the chis?" Leah asked excitedly. She was already half hairy, eyes glowing supernaturally in the reflected lamplight.

"No chis tonight, sorry Pup," Mena said with a sparkling laugh. "They tolerate Becca when she gets all hairy, but I think more than one wolf would freak them out."

"Aw," Leah said. "I thought maybe you'd want them to be part of tonight?"

"Nah," Mena said with a wave of her hand, "the last thing we need is one of them getting carried off by an owl or something."

Dinner would have been uneventful— chaotic as always, everyone but Mena running around half-shifted and grazing— except for the entire family being _entirely unsubtle_ in their probing of the situation.

But at last, after dessert but before the wolves all left to run in the woods, Rebecca made her move.

“I have something else for you,” she said slyly.

“Ah-ah!” Mena said, stopping her before she could get up. “Before you do...” Mena started, standing up with a flourish. She brushed down her skirt, then hefted her bag up from beside her seat. “I have something for _you.”_

She pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle, passing it over to Rebecca at the table. There was the distinct sound of everyone in the room holding their breath. Rebecca tried not to notice her parents taking each other’s hands. 

“You have been _so_ sweet the last few weeks,” Mena started, tucking a stray loc behind her ear. “I’m always _so_ grateful to have you in my life. You’re my best friend. And you’ve just gone above and beyond the last couple weeks, so…” she pushed the bundle over to Rebecca. “I know you think we already have too many knicknacks at the house. But I thought this would be useful, at least.”

Rebecca pulled the cloth bundle closer. It was largish, but manageable. She had no idea what it could be. Mena worked completely different hours than she did; she would have been able to pull any manner of item into the house without Rebecca knowing. 

She carefully opened the cloth, inhaling sharply when she realized what was inside. 

“You didn’t have to— “ Rebecca started as she pulled the gift up to look it over. The bag was soft leather, well-tooled and waxed to make it waterproof. The soft, warm brown of it was supple but thick, durable. It was lined with a sturdy cloth, with a gorgeous series of buckles around it and adjustable straps. Most beautiful, however, were its decorations.

“Mena…” Rebecca started as she ran her fingers over the outer pack. The body of the bag had tooled designs all over it: flowers and bees in tiny, fine detail... _moving_. The flowers bloomed, unfurling their petals before withering and starting anew, the bees lazily trailing between them. “This is gorgeous.”

Mena beamed. “I figured you could use a new bag. That old one has had so many patches put on it it might as well be a new one, anyway, but this one should be super durable. And it’s adjustable,” Mena said, pointing at the buckles. “So you can wear it as a wolf and it won’t stretch out.”

Rebecca set the bag down and threw her arms around Mena’s shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. “I’ll be right back. I have one last thing for you.”

She headed into the pantry, grinning to herself. Mena cared! Mena had given her something back! Not that she didn’t expect it, but maybe this meant she’d gotten the gist of what Rebecca was trying to ask? 

She grabbed the heavy jar of golden honey she’d gotten from her father’s bees off the shelf, humming quietly as she inspected its contents. Raw, unfiltered and golden, with a huge chunk of comb in the center. Mena could eat it raw or ferment it into the mead she liked to square away for winter like distilled summer sunshine. And it complemented Mena’s gift perfectly, almost like it was fate.

But as she headed back to the dining room, she stopped cold.

"Does this mean you accept?" Leah asked excitedly.

"Accept what, Pup?"

"Becca’s proposal!"

“To be partners? We’ve talked about it a dozen times.”

Her mother’s voice, moon-deep and calm. “Her marriage proposal, Philomena.”

_“What?”_

“Damn, it mom,” Rebecca sighed.

Mena whirled in her seat, staring at Rebecca in the dining room doorway, frozen with the jar of honey clutched in her arms. 

Rebecca cleared her throat, hefting the great jar of honey into one arm and scratching the back of her head self-consciously. “Hadn’t gotten there yet, guys. Can I talk to you for a minute, Meen?”

“Yes?” Mena said, her tone and expression strange. She stood up stiffly, patting her skirts down reflexively before walking past the other wolves to join Rebecca through the screen door to the back porch.

Once there, Rebecca clutched the honey like a lifebuoy while she tried to figure out what to say. Mena just stared at her, steady as always.

“I thought you knew,” she said at last, trying to keep her voice low so the family couldn’t eavesdrop. “That I was courting you.”

“We haven't even dated yet!” Mena whispered. _Yet_ , Rebecca’s mind rang. “You— you never asked me out.”

“We signed a mortgage together!” Rebecca insisted. “I— we own _land_. We have joint custody of three dogs!”

“Okay?” Mena said. “I’m not— I mean— I don’t—”

“You don't have to say yes, but I just wanted to put it out there—”

“I mean, yeah, and yes, but— I don’t know how to—”

“You’re the light of my life and I wanted to give you something as sweet as you,” Rebecca mumbled, thrusting the giant jar of honey at Mena and looking away. “That’s all. I don’t care if you want to sign some stupid paper or not, and I don’t care if you love me the same way, because I love you always, in many ways, and that won’t stop just because you don’t want to kiss me.”

Mena stood stock still, staring at Rebecca for long moments before carefully taking the giant jar of honey and cradling it like a child would a soft toy. 

“Are you sure?” she asked carefully.

“More sure than anything else in my life,” Rebecca said, squarely staring at the porch roof. They really needed to dust for cobwebs out here. 

“Then…” Rebecca heard Mena set down the jar on one of the rocking chairs. Then: a gentle touch on her shoulder. “Hey. Look at me.”

Rebecca turned, her ears going more and more pointed, the flush on her face burning high. 

Mena pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Rebecca as tightly as she could. 

“Uh?” Rebecca said intelligently. 

“Rebecca Jacobson, you are the light of _my_ life, but you can also be incredibly stupid.” Mena scrutinized her. “One day we’ll have our own pack, and it won’t just be three flighty tiny dogs named after fucking ballpark food. But you _have_ to be more straightforward about this stuff. You have to tell me when you’re, you know, madly in love with me or whatever.”

“I don’t know _how_ ,” Rebecca whined. “Besides, you never said anything _either.”_

Mena kissed her once, a simple peck on the lip, and they both broke down into giggles. 

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> For more info about what I'm working on these days, check me out on Twitter @GoInterrobang. :)


End file.
